


The Heartbreaking Ones

by Luce_cm



Series: Drabbles Week 1 [2]
Category: Black Widow (Comics), Black Widow - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Broken Engagement, Extortion, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Violence, Lies, Past Relationship(s), implied threat of death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-08 20:18:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15937535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luce_cm/pseuds/Luce_cm
Summary: “Look, you hate me. I know that. But I need you to trust me. I’d never let anything happen to you, because I… I love you.”





	The Heartbreaking Ones

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt is from @promptlywritingideas on Tumblr. I own nothing except the story.

There’s a knock on your door at what you assume to be the crack of dawn, judging by the specks of light coming into the small apartment. The sounds startles you from your sleep, but it is forced routine and years in the battlefield born instinct that push your body up, your hand reaching for the handgun in your nightstand while the free one dangles the backpack of possessions over your shoulder.

Pressing the device near your neck and feeling the vibrations on your vocal cords ready to change your voice begin, you speak up,

“Who is it?”

“No worries, ma’am. Just visiting.” The familiar voice answers back, years-old code phrase reaching your ears and making your heart beat painfully in your chest, as if trying to reach her through your sternum and reunite with her own heart. As if trying to love her still, through the pain, the lies, and the finale.

You open the door, but still hold your gun up, and aim it at her head. Your teeth are clenched tight and your hand shakes as you stand face to face with the Black Widow for the first time in over a year.

Natasha looks almost the same, the same red hair the color of dying embers that reminds you of warmth and the quiet crackling of a fire, but at the same time sings of chaos and destruction and the untamable force of nature that its wearer is. She is still the petite and strong woman that watched you walk away, her green eyes are still the same that built a web of lies around you and pretended to cry when you finally broke free of it.

There’s an uncertainty in her stance, though, a hesitation. As if the Widow is thrown back by the reality of your presence before her just like you are of hers, as if there’s still a part of her aching for you the same time your heart does for her.

But that is foolish. A child’s fantasy. Nothing more.

“What do you want?” You ask as you let her in, closing the door behind you and still clutching the handgun tightly, although letting it fall to your side.

“I know you weren’t behind the assassination.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence. That doesn’t explain why you are here.” You snarl back, still watching cautiously at Natasha’s form, he back turned to you and straight hair covering her shoulders.

“My employers…aren’t so sure of your innocence.” She states simply, raspy voice unwavering as she sets your death sentence.

“No…”

A deep breath, and then, “I will fail the mission, but you will have to go to the States. Give yourself up to Carter’s team,” The woman turns to you, her chin proudly, stoically raised as she faces you. Her façade quickly crumbles when she sees the tears shining in your eyes. “You thought I was going to kill you.”

Despite the tears that trace twin paths down your cheeks, you walk past the Widow to the window of your apartment, your shoulder roughly bumping on hers as you do so.

“Can you blame me?”

“Iyubov mo-…”

You interrupt her with a yell, not caring for that split second about the price in your head, about the all-seeing eyes of your supposed enemies, “Don’t you dare! You lied to me, played me, for years! Don’t you dare pretend it wasn’t all a lie, pretend I should still believe you love anything, _Black Widow._ ”

The words leave your lips like venom dripping from a dying snake’s jaws, trying to leave one last wound on the world that killed you, on the world that took a civilian girl and turned her into something else, on the world, the woman, that made her believe she could be loved only to burn everything before her eyes.

Still, a gullible, innocent part of you cannot help but notice the way Natasha flinches at the title, at the badge of pride she so flawlessly lives up to. The redhead shows a second of weakness, a second of pain and regret and heartbreak as deep as your own, before the Widow takes over, before the façade is back on place.

You laugh bitterly, turning your eyes back to the European dormant skyline and trying to breathe past the knot in your throat.

“I…” She stops herself before speaking, measuring her words, “It wasn’t a lie. Not to me.”

The sob wrenched from your chest echoes through the room, and a few more tears find a trace down your cheeks when you speak again,

“But it was a mission.”

A few seconds of silence, and then, “Yes.”

“Then it was a lie, Natalia.” You answer simply, a resigned kind of anguish settling over you, dragging you down.

“You have to leave. They are going to be at my tail soon.” Natasha insists, walking closer to you before stopping herself, hands clenched at her sides.

You ignore her, and ask, “Why did they give you the mission, Nat? One last twist of the knife before finally killing me, or…what?”

“They didn’t. I asked for it,” She explains, finally crossing the distance between you, standing in front of you right by the window, the light morning light caressing her tightened features, her dry lips and tired eyes. “Look, you hate me. I know that. But I need you to trust me. I’d never let anything happen to you, because I… I love you.”

You shake your head at her words, at the way you ae so easily swayed back into believing her, at the way your heart soars at her confession and breaks at the pain in her voice at the same time, in the same beat.

“If I go to the States, will you follow me, Natalia?” You ask carefully, trying in vain to hide the stupid hope in your tone. The redhead closes her eyes, shaking her head silently. “They will not accept failure, your _employers_.”

The bite in your use of the word is not lost to either of you, and the stubborn protective way you refer to the master assassin’s future brings a smile to tease at her lips. She takes your hand carefully, fingers sliding between yours and brings you closer.

“I will handle them.” She assures, forehead resting on your and green eyes still closed. The gun falls from your hand, the dull thud of the metal hitting the carpeted ground almost managing to startle you.

It is with a small smile teasing at your own lips that you whisper, “This may be the last time I’m trusting you, Natalia.”

“I’m going to make good of it, I promise.” She teases back, and before long the brief contact is lost, you are both taking a step back and the distance is more than a few feet when you arrange the backpack once again over your shoulder.

“I’ll make sure to put in a good word of you in Shield.”

“Not too much, I have a reputation to maintain.” She smiles, a little sad, a little broken, but smiles nonetheless. You nod, opening the window and assessing the streets before readying yourself to take the emergency staircase out of the building and off the city to probably never return.

“Of course, _Black Widow._ ” The painful sting of your tone is lost this time when you whisper her title back at her.

Natasha strides the few feet separating you in a rush, hands reaching to hold your face between her hands as she presses her lips fervently to yours. It is a brief, desperate kiss. As hurting as it is healing.

Her next words are rasped out of her lips, almost forced past the fear, the threats, the very real possibility of failure; they are a promise, a blessing, a wish,

“I will find you, once this is over.”

**Author's Note:**

> I had to make the ending a little hopeful, I couldn’t contain myself.  
> If you enjoyed my work, please leave a comment or something. Please, this is my first time writing Nat as a romantic partner to the reader and I’m really nervous. Also, I thrive in feedback, I need it. Thank you!   
> Love, Luce


End file.
